by Renee Roszel
Her eyes darted to his face, and he met her curious gaze with an uneasy frown. He lifted a hand to take hers. “Join me?” Allowing him to help her, she sat down beside him, pulling off her sandals. When she noticed he was rolling up his slacks, she asked. “Are we going clamming?”
He shook his head, looking very solemn. “No, just walking. The feel of sand and water on bare feet is calming. We need that.”
“I agree.” She nodded, rolling her cotton slacks to midcalf. When she had finished, he helped her to her feet and they began to walk again. Raine was surprised at how pleasant the water felt as it lapped around her feet and ankles. In the past month, the ocean had become less threatening, and she smiled at the realization.
“What’s funny?” Cotter’s voice was so close it startled her.
She met his troubled gaze. “Nothing, really.” She kicked at the surf thoughtfully. “I just realized I’m not afraid of the ocean anymore.”
He took her elbow. “You’re not afraid of much anymore, are you?”
She thought about that. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?” His brow arched. “Come, now. You’ve taken on everything from clams to criminals, and won. What could you still be afraid of?”
Her attention shifted to the sand. The squirt of a clam near her bare toes brought back a warm flash of memory, Cotter holding her and kissing her, the day they’d gone clamming. She remembered vividly her frustration. That same night, after the attempted break-in, their lovemaking had been supreme, until he told her of his unwillingness to let himself love her.
And now he was asking her what she was afraid of. How could she tell him that it was him she feared, her unreasonable love for a man frightened her more than bullets. She shook her head, deciding to be vague. “One or two…things.”
“Hmm.” He was silent for a long moment before changing the subject abruptly. “I couldn’t believe it when you actually smiled at Paul DeMosso tonight—after everything he’d done to you. You still forgave him, didn’t you?”
Completely taken off guard by Cotter’s remark, she squinted at his profile. There was a definite edge to his words now. She was sure of it. Stopping in her tracks, she turned to face him. “Of course I did.”
He stopped, too, turning to look down at her through guarded lids. “That’s what I thought.”
Raine could see no calm in the darkness of his eyes. She wasn’t sure of what she saw there, but it was anything but peaceful. His handsome features grew more troubled as he admitted, “I didn’t know you cared so much—about him. Even after he used you, used the project, almost killed you? You must really have loved him.”
Raine was stunned. Loved? Paul DeMosso? Looking back on how Paul took it when he found out his own wife conspired to kill his father, she could feel nothing but pity for the man.
She cringed at the sight of despair in Cotter’s eyes as he watched her. Was it pity? The last emotion she wanted to draw from Cotter was pity. But of course, that was what she saw in the endless darkness of his gaze. Did he really believe she loved a criminal who had used her and threatened her life? Good Lord! How wrong could one man be? But she couldn’t tell him the truth—that it was Cotter she really loved.
She abruptly turned away. She mumbled, “I’d rather not talk about this, if you don’t mind.” Blindly, she stumbled away. The wet sand weighted her bare feet, making her progress seem awkward and slow.
Cotter caught up with her, taking her wrist. “This has to be said.”
“No, it doesn’t.” She shrugged out of his grasp, casting her gaze out over the ocean to keep from meeting his probing eyes. It was hard to have the man she loved questioning her about another man. “I’d rather sort everything out alone,” she pleaded. With a grim determination to get away, she hurried down the beach.
Hands on her shoulders turned her around. “Raine, talk to me.” It was a plea, this time, not an order. He swallowed. “You forgave Ike. You forgave Nordie.” The shadow of the haunted animal loomed in his eyes as he asked huskily, “Can’t you forgive me, too?”
The starkness of his words sent a shiver down her spine. “Forgive you?” For his using her—for making love to her? Why? To soothe his feelings of guilt? Hardly hearing her own words she told him, “You used me badly, Cotter, in a way no other human being ever has.”
His tanned face seemed to drain of all color. But his eyes, direct and dark, pulled her gaze back to him. “I know. But won’t you let me at least explain?” Wounded, she shook her head to deny his request, but he continued in a deep, husky tone, “Well, professor, I’m going to tell you anyway, because it’s something I’ve never told any woman before.”
“I don’t want to hear this!” she moaned, resolutely pressing her fists against his chest, intent on pulling away.
They halted, and his arms encircled her, hugging her to him. “No, you’re going to hear me out.” His voice was determined. “I was a fool. I didn’t want love or friendship or responsibility for other people. I lied to myself for a long time. Made excuses. But I found out tonight, when I heard you scream, that there’s just one thing harder to take than losing people I’ve loved and felt responsible for, and that is never giving myself the chance to love—and knowing it was my own fault.
“When I thought I’d lost you, Raine, I died.” With his hands framing her face, he lifted her head so that her gaze met his. “Raine,” he went on in a subdued whisper, “maybe it’s too late for you to forgive me. I hope not. More than anything in the world, I wish you’d give me another chance.”
“Another chance?” she breathed.
“Yes. Because I love you.” His breath was feathering her hair, and she could feel the rapid beating of his heart. “Raine—” His voice broke in a touching display of vulnerability, and she cherished his genuine emotion. He was whispering, “I know you cared for Ike. I know he hurt you and I know I’ve hurt you, too.” He ran long fingers though her hair. “But I was wrong before. I’m one stray who wants very badly to be accepted by you. I’ll do whatever it takes.”
She looked up at him. His mouth was only a breath away from hers. “What do you mean?” she asked breathlessly.
“I mean my intentions are honorable.” His eyes glittered into hers with a magnificent intensity that made her heart soar. His smile was softer than she had ever remembered. “I should have realized how I felt about you when I couldn’t keep my hands off you.”
She felt tears prick her eyelids and could only gaze wordlessly at him as he went on.
“I love you Raine. I want to marry you.”
Her eyes widened as she stared through tear-spangled lashes at his face, basking in the warmth she saw there. “You’re proposing…marriage?”
He kissed her softly, murmuring against her cheek. “You’re a treasure, and I can’t lose you now that I’ve found you.”
She wanted to believe him more than she wanted the breath of life, but she had to ask, “And Anona?”
He brushed a loving kiss across her lips, then pulled away reluctantly. The frustrated sound in his throat echoed her own distress at being deprived of his touch. Taking her hand, he began to walk with her again. “Anona is attractive. She’ll find someone.” In one quick, unexpected motion, he turned back to face Raine, his eyes black, penetrating. A surge of emotion too strong to ignore seemed to take hold of him, and he encircled her with strong, protective arms, rasping against her cheek, “Raine, please agree to marry me.”
She blinked. He was holding her blessedly close, breathing against her ear. Of course she would marry him. There was little to forgive. And now that she also knew that he had been as drawn into their lovemaking as she, all her doubts were dispelled. “I—” Her voice cracked and she swallowed, intent on trying again, when something caught her eye.
A green patch, all but hidden between two sand dunes, jogged her memory. It was the wild cranberry bed. A flutter of excitement made her heart race. Working hard at keeping her voice even, she said, “I can’t wait that long.”
<
br /> Her eyes moved meaningfully to the thick mat of green vines. When she lifted her head to find his eyes again, her lips were curved upward in a direct, seductive smile. “I’ve loved you—only you—for so long, I want to…” She paused, reclining and pulling him down beside her. In a throaty whisper, she finished, “I want to love you, now.”
“You love me?” The question was hesitant, as if he were almost afraid to believe it.
She lifted her cheek to nuzzle his chin. “Only you.”
His lips found hers as he swept her into his arms and down to their fragrant mattress. His mouth moved across hers hungrily, and she gloried in the fiery sensations his touch released within her. “But, when,” he murmured against an upturned corner of her mouth, “will you marry me?”
She framed his magnificent head in her hands. “I’ll call my parents when we get back to the house. As soon as they can get here we’ll be married. Is that all right?”
“Tell them to fly. I don’t want you to have time to take in any more strays.” His voice held a teasing note; his breath mingled with hers.
A laugh bubbled in her throat as he lowered her to the blossoming bed, and within moments they were one, entwined in a passion that ignited their bodies. Together, they shared a priceless treasure.
Epilogue
Raine shook the snow from her hair and handed her coat to Hanna. “Where is…” The words died away as she heard the familiar strains of an up-tempo jazz standard drifting from the den. “Never mind, Hanna.” With a light heart, she hurried toward the sound. She’d just returned from an overnight trip to Orono—her first night away from Cotter since their marriage in July. Right now, she wanted nothing more than to see Cotter and hold him in her arms. Without knocking she pushed the double doors open to find him sitting quietly in the dark, listening to their favorite music.
When she entered, he turned, and from the light in the hallway, she could see his features open in a smile. “Hello, darling.” He stood up and walked to her. Pushing the doors closed, he took her into his arms. His scent filled her head, making her feel dizzy with happiness, and she leaned into his warmth for support.
“I missed you last night,” he murmured.
Lifting her head reluctantly from his chest, she smiled into his eyes. “Me, too.” She took his hand and led him toward the couch. “Come and sit with me while we talk. Oh, by the way, on the radio I heard that Paul DeMosso’s evidence has brought seventy-two indictments of underworld figures and uncovered a powerful organized crime network operating across the United States—drug trafficking, car theft—”
He stopped short, halting her. “I read about it in this evening’s paper and called Detective Hefflet. He told me DeMosso’s gone—spirited away—the whole family, too. Even his wife. That surprises me, considering what she did.”
Raine lifted a shoulder. “Not me. He wouldn’t have made the deal without Doria. He really loves her.”
Cotter’s eyes glistened in the darkness, and as her eyes adjusted, she could see that he was smiling. “I guess when you put it that way, I understand.” His voice was gentle, loving. “Anyway, I knew you’d want to know, so I found out for you. Now, could you do something for me?”
She slanted her head questioningly. “Sure. What?”
“Let’s not talk about him anymore.” His smile had faded slightly. He seemed cautious, almost uncomfortable.”
Raine inhaled deeply, shaking her head. The marvel of their love still filled her with awe. Pulling up on tiptoes, she kissed him. “The subject is closed.”
He relaxed visibly and chuckled, nuzzling her glasses askew on her face. “Thanks.”
“Cotter…” A laugh bubbled in her throat as she pushed the new frames back into place. “Whatever happened to the old saying about boys never making passes at girls who wear glasses?”
He pulled the gold frames off her nose and slipped them into his jacket pocket. “Trashed. Kiss me.” He growled the command playfully, nipping at her lips and pressing her down until she was arched precariously backward.
She cautioned, “We’re going to fall.”
He kissed her throat and teased, “I already have. Let’s go to bed.”
He gave her an urgent yet playful caress that made her body begin to tingle with need. It still amazed her how quickly he could bring her to this yearning state of desire. But even as she encircled his neck with her arms, she tried to think clearly. “Isn’t your brother’s family due to get here soon for dinner?”
Cotter stopped his nuzzling and lifted his face just enough to peer into her eyes. “Is it Christmas Eve already?”
She smiled up into his laughing eyes. “I’m afraid so. Merry Christmas.”
“That means Nordie’ll be here any minute, too. Who’s she bringing this time—a group of underground radicals working on heat-seeking missiles? Probably blow up our bedroom sometime tonight.”
Raine couldn’t restrain her laughter. “No heat-seeking radicals. Just someone named Gregor, I think.”
He looked down at her, his long lashes hooding the twinkle of fun that always seemed to brighten his eyes lately. “Gregor?” He shook his head doubtfully. “Here we go again.”
Raine closed her eyes, enjoying the softness of his cashmere sweater against her face. “So, Nordie’s changed majors again.”
“Naturally.” Raine stepped away from his arms, her desire to curl up in his lap now very strong. In a throaty whisper, she suggested, “Come. Sit on the couch with me.” She laced her fingers in his as she took up the thread of their conversation. “This time, I think she’s found her calling—as a performing arts major.”
“As a performing arts major, maybe. I don’t actually see her graduating.” He allowed her to lead him to the couch. As he sat down he pulled her to him. “What did they say at the university. Are you going to get the extended anthropology project?”
She snuggled into the crook of his arm, nodding. “That’s the good news. Not only do they want me to head up a more extensive project from here, they’ve also authorized me to hire an assistant.” She turned happy, shining eyes at her expectant husband. “Remember George?”
He pursed his lips. “George? Wasn’t he the kid who was in love with you?”
Startled, she denied it. “Heavens, no! Whatever gave you that idea?”
She felt him shift, his smile becoming enigmatic. He patted her knee. “Never mind. Maybe he cries at all weddings. Now, what’s the bad news?”
She dropped her eyes to his hand as it caressed her knee. “The bad news is they’re sending up four students right after the new year—for a month. January and June will be the seminar months when students come up here.”
His laugh was hearty. “Only four?”
She nodded but didn’t smile. “That’s four too many, if you ask me.” She looked away, out the window. Large, wet flakes were fluttering down, turning the point in the distance a picture-perfect, glistening white. Quietly, she added, “They’re all young women.”
He was silent for a moment before she felt a finger on her chin, turning her to face him. “So?”
She shrugged. “I’m not sure I want four women trailing you for a month.”
“I’ve got an idea.” His grin was wide and rakish. “Why don’t we tell them I’m gay?”
Knowing what she now knew about him, she burst out laughing at the outrageous idea. “And how would we explain me—the sleep-in therapist?”
His smile was tender. “Why don’t we let George take care of the girls. He needs the practice.” Dismissing the subject, he hugged her to him and whispered in her ear. “Let’s go to bed. I’ll have Hanna tell the family we’ll be down later.”
She hid her smile. “Cotter, this is your niece’s first visit. Oh, and Cammie told me the doctor is very optimistic about Carl. The therapy seems to be effective.”
He nodded. “That is good news, but—” he leaned near, kissing her cheek and whispering seductively “—I want to love you, Raine. We could join them fo
r dessert.”
She twisted in his arms to face him, pulling her feet up beneath her. With a sigh of contentment she offered a compromise. “Let’s have dinner with them and then I’ll send everybody home early. After all, it’s Christmas Eve.”
She went on whispering, “Cotter, we just have time to change. Don’t you want to taste the cranberry sauce I made—” She hushed him with a hand to his lips, finishing, “—With cranberries from our wild cranberry patch?”
“Later.” He was unbuttoning her blouse, kissing the softly rising flesh beneath her lacy bra.
She couldn’t help responding. Head lolled back, her body began to pulsate with heightened desire. “Oh, Cotter…” she moaned contentedly. “You’re insatiable.”
“I know.” He slipped a hand to the back of her neck, stroking her softness there. His tongue explored further, but she tried again, her voice less resolute, a tremulous whisper. “And the special wine—from the cellar…” He suckled a rosy peak, and she gave in, sighing.
He was moving down, kissing the slight roundness of her stomach, murmuring, “You’re sweeter than any wine.”
She felt her slacks open at his touch and gasped. “What if Hanna comes in?”
“She’ll knock,” he assured her, his voice deep with promise. Warm, loving hands slid down, enveloping her. She lowered her eyes to the silver glimmer of his hair. Her whole world was this man. His touch was magic, making her forget everything and everyone else. Wetting trembling lips, she curled her fingers in his thick hair, a delighted smile lifting her lips. Dinner would be late.
About the Author
Renee Roszel has been writing professionally since 1983, with over forty novels published to date. IN addition to being named Oklahoma Writer of the Year by the University of Oklahoma Short Course for Professional Writers, she has multiple National RITA finalist honors and several nominations for Best Short Contemporary Novel by Romantic Times magazine. Renee’s books have been published in foreign languages in far-flung countries ranging from Poland to New Zealand, Germany to Turkey, Japan to Brazil, France, Australia and the Netherlands.